CHAPTER 37: OVER INDULGENCE

Alexia POV:

After that mortifying day of shopping, all I needed was food to erase the horrors of overpriced shoes, gowns, and—ugh—lingerie. Why was Aiden so obsessed with being controlling? The man had practically picked out my entire wardrobe. And when he wasn’t choosing, he was dragging me around like some kind of designer-clad puppet.

As my stomach let out another dramatic growl, I turned to him, scowling. "I’m starving," I said, clutching my stomach for effect.

He gave me one of those looks. You know the ones. The raised eyebrow, the slight smirk, the condescending ’are you serious?’ expression. "You had enough pancakes to supply a bakery this morning," he said.

"That was hours ago!" I snapped.

"Two hours," he corrected, his voice laced with irritation.

"It feels like a lifetime," I countered, throwing in a theatrical sigh. "Are you trying to starve me?"

He muttered something under his breath, which I didn’t catch but could guess wasn’t a compliment. Finally, he huffed and made a sharp turn toward a small restaurant. Nothing fancy—just the kind of cozy, low-key place you’d go to for comfort food.

He parked the car and, as usual, scanned the area for paparazzi. Aiden always acted like the world was waiting to catch him in a compromising situation. To be fair, it probably was. Still, his paranoia was exhausting.

"Are we good?" I asked, leaning toward him with a teasing grin.

"Just get inside," he replied, his hand on the small of my back as he ushered me toward the door.

The place was nice. Not too crowded, with warm lighting and the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. We were seated near a window, and before I could even glance at the menu, Aiden leaned in, his tone sharp.

"No alcoholic drinks," he said, pointing at me like I was a misbehaving child.

I blinked at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he replied, his voice low and firm. "If you even think about ordering anything stronger than sparkling water, I’m walking out and leaving you here."

"Oh, come on!" I protested, throwing my hands up. "That was one time!"

"One time too many," he shot back, narrowing his eyes. "I’m not reliving that nightmare."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "Fine. I’ll have... I don’t know. Lemonade."

"She’ll have water," Aiden interrupted before the server could even acknowledge my request.

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me? Since when do you order for me?"

"Since you can’t be trusted to make responsible choices," he said, smirking like he’d just won some imaginary battle.

I glared at him, but before I could launch into a tirade, the server appeared, looking slightly uncomfortable at the tension radiating from our table.

"Water," Aiden repeated firmly. "For her. And I’ll have a black coffee."

"Lemonade," I interjected, staring daggers at him.

The poor server hesitated, glancing between us like he wasn’t sure who to listen to. Aiden sighed dramatically. "Fine. Lemonade," he said, waving his hand like he was granting me a favor.

"Thank you," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.

When it came time to order food, I had one goal: eat enough to forget this entire day.

"What can I get for you?" the server asked, turning to me.

I didn’t even look at the menu. "I’ll have the roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans," I said, pausing for effect. "Oh, and a side of garlic bread. And a Caesar salad. And..." I scanned the menu quickly. "The mushroom soup to start."

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "You planning to feed a football team?"

"Nope. Just me," I replied sweetly.

"Right..." he said, shaking his head as he placed his far less ambitious order—a steak and a side of vegetables. Predictable.

When the server left, Aiden leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You do realize people are going to assume I don’t feed you, right? With the way you’re ordering, it’s like you haven’t eaten in weeks."

"I haven’t," I replied, clutching my chest dramatically. "You’ve been dragging me all over town, starving me while you shop for clothes I didn’t even ask for."

He rolled his eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re infuriating," I shot back, taking a sip of my lemonade.

As we waited for the food, I couldn’t help but poke at him a little more. "So," I said, leaning forward with a grin. "What’s the deal with you and Victorian Secret, anyway? You seemed very

comfortable in there."

His jaw tightened, and I knew I’d struck a nerve. "It’s called being efficient," he replied coolly. "Someone had to make sure you weren’t walking around in—whatever it is you usually wear."

I smirked. "Admit it. You were enjoying yourself."

"Trust me," he said, leaning in closer, his voice low and dangerous. "The only thing I enjoyed was watching you squirm."

"Sure," I said, drawing out the word. "Whatever you say."

The food arrived before he could retort, and I immediately dug in. The mushroom soup was heavenly, the garlic bread perfectly crisp. I ate with what I thought was a reasonable level of elegance, but Aiden stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

"What?" I asked, pausing mid-bite.

"Do you even breathe between bites?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Don’t judge me," I said, pointing my fork at him. "You’re the one who didn’t let me eat earlier. This is your fault."

By the time I finished my soup, salad, and most of the main course, I was starting to feel full. But then dessert was mentioned, and I perked up immediately.

"You’re not serious," Aiden said as I scanned the dessert menu.

"Oh, I’m very serious," I replied, flagging down the server. "I’ll have the chocolate lava cake. And the cheesecake. And..."

"Alexia," he interrupted, his tone warning.

"What?" I asked innocently. "You said no alcohol. You didn’t say anything about dessert."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. "Fine. Order whatever you want. Just don’t blame me when you can’t move afterward."

The chocolate lava cake was divine. The rich, molten center oozed decadence, and the cheesecake practically melted on my tongue. I was in dessert heaven, and nothing—not even Aiden’s incessant judgment—was going to ruin it.

"You better pace yourself," Aiden warned, eyeing me as I shoveled another forkful of lava cake into my mouth. "You’re going to regret eating all of that."

I rolled my eyes, licking a bit of chocolate off my lip just to annoy him. "What’s the point of dessert if you don’t enjoy it? Let me live, Mr. Grumpy."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m serious, Alexia. Last time you ate like this, it didn’t end well. Or have you forgotten the puke incident?"

I froze mid-bite, the memory of that night flashing in my mind. "That was one time," I mumbled, but my confidence wavered as my stomach let out a low, ominous gurgle.

Aiden raised an eyebrow, his expression dripping with smugness. "Right. One time. But considering your current speed, I’d say we’re heading for round two."

"I’m fine," I insisted, waving him off and taking another bite of cheesecake for good measure. I refused to let him win this battle of wills.

True to his prediction, by the time I finished dessert, I was practically slumped in my chair. "I think I’m going to die," I moaned, clutching my stomach.

"I told you," he said, smirking as he sipped his coffee.

"But it was worth it," I said, leaning back with a content sigh.

By the time I polished off the last crumbs of dessert, my stomach felt... uneasy. Okay, more than uneasy. It felt like I had a miniature tornado brewing in there, a mixture of chocolate, cheesecake, and regret. I dabbed my mouth with the napkin, trying to maintain my composure.

"See?" I said, forcing a smile. "No problem. I’m perfectly—"

My stomach let out a loud, almost cartoonish grumble.

Aiden tilted his head, his lips twitching in amusement. "Perfectly what?"

"Perfectly fine," I snapped, sitting up straighter as if good posture would magically fix my impending doom. "Let’s just go."

He chuckled, throwing some cash on the table for the bill before standing. "Suit yourself. But if you puke in my car again, I swear—"

"I won’t!" I shot back, standing abruptly. The movement was a mistake. A very big mistake.

As we left the restaurant, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Despite the day’s chaos, I couldn’t help but smile. For all his faults—and there were many—Aiden had at least kept things interesting.

"Come on," he said, holding the car door open for me. "Let’s get you home before you start complaining again."

I climbed into the car, still grinning. "You’re lucky I like food more than I hate you."

"And you’re lucky I have patience," he shot back, rolling his eyes.

"Sure," I said, leaning back in the seat. "Whatever you say."

When I got in the car, I started to regret my life choices. The tight seatbelt pressing against my overstuffed stomach felt like a medieval torture device. Aiden glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, clearly noticing my discomfort.

"Feeling okay there?" he asked, his tone laced with mock concern.

"I’m fine," I lied, clenching my fists to stop myself from doubling over. "Just drive."

He shrugged, starting the engine. The smooth motion of the car pulling onto the road made my stomach churn even more. I clenched my teeth, determined not to give him the satisfaction of being right.

But then he hit a speed bump.

"Ugh," I groaned, clutching my stomach as a wave of nausea washed over me.

Aiden glanced at me, his smirk fading. "You’re turning green. Don’t you dare—"

"I’m not—" I started, but the words were cut off as the contents of my overindulgence threatened to make a violent reappearance.

"Alexia!" he snapped, pulling over to the side of the road just as I leaned forward.

It was too late.